


Video Games

by bisexuallaurel



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types
Genre: Drinking, Fluff, Gaming, Halloween, M/M, side Clizzy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-28 06:04:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8434486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bisexuallaurel/pseuds/bisexuallaurel
Summary: “So, you ready?” Clary asked, straightening the bolo tie around Simon’s neck and smoothing down the lapels of his suit. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”“It’ll be fun!” Clary said, poking him in the chest. “Come on, we’re already late.” or, the Jimon AU where Simon goes to a Halloween party at the Lightwood house to wingman for his best friend Clary, and somehow ends up playing Mario Kart with an unfairly attractive stranger all night instead.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for the Jimon Network Halloween Event on tumblr!
> 
> Content warnings:  
> \- Alcohol / drinking, but they're all of age  
> \- Anxiety (nothing too graphic, but if you've read any of my previous Jimon fics, my version of Simon is always pretty anxious and self-doubtful so that'll show in this fic too)  
> \- Cursing  
> \- Pre-smut, i.e. making out
> 
> You can find an aesthetic for the fic here:  
> http://bi-magnus.tumblr.com/post/152568053334/video-games-a-jimon-au-for-the-jimon-network

“I can’t believe you talked me into this,” Simon moaned as he was dragged through the streets of Brooklyn by an overexcited Clary Fray. “I should be at home eating garlic bread right now.” 

“Oh, shut up,” Clary called happily, grinning at him over her shoulder. “You’ll have fun, I promise.” 

They were jogging now, and Simon was starting to get very out of breath. “How are we not there yet?”

The night air was cold against his face. There were dark, creepy bushes lining the street, and he vaguely wondered if it had been a good idea to walk (well, run) to a party at 10 pm on Halloween. 

“One more block!”

 _That was at least 5 blocks, but okay,_ Simon thought as they finally stopped a few minutes later. His mouth was dry and he cursed himself for not bringing anything to drink. Well, they had vodka, but he wasn’t sure that would help right now. 

Clary didn’t look quite as taken by the jog, but even she took a moment to get her breathing back to normal.  
  
“So, you ready?” she asked, straightening the bolo tie around Simon’s neck and smoothing down the lapels of his suit. 

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“It’ll be fun!” Clary said, poking him in the chest. “Come on, we’re already late.” 

She walked up the path to the house with Simon in tow and rang the doorbell. While they waited, she tugged on the hem of her crop top and ran a hand through her long hair. The top was white with purple shells over her breasts. Paired with the top she was wearing sparkly teal leggings with scale print.

“My god you’re smitten,” Simon said with a grin. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

“Am not,” Clary said, instinctively slapping Simon’s arm. A light pink tinted her cheeks and Simon grinned even wider. 

“You areeee,” he sing songed, and ducked out of reach when another slap was aimed his way.

“Am not!” Clary insisted, and she self-consciously tugged on the top’s hem again.

“You look great,” Simon said firmly. “She’s gonna love you, I mean, the costume.”

Clary’s blush deepened. “Simon, I don’t—”

Before she had time to finish her sentence, a girl with a black gown and long, black braids opened the door. Around her neck hung several heavy looking silver necklaces, and her eyes were hidden from sight under a big black hat. Dramatic music was booming from inside the house.

 _Very intense_ , Simon thought to himself.

At first, the girl didn’t say anything. Her head was slightly tilted down, which just made the whole ordeal that more creepy.

Clary and Simon exchanged glances and just as Clary was about to say something, the girl tipped back her hat and smiled widely at them.

“Get it?” she said, gesturing towards her lacy dress.

Simon didn’t get it, so he decided to stay quiet. Clary on the other hand clapped her hands together. “Ohhh, you’re Beyoncé! Formation Beyoncé!”

The girl bounced a little on her feet, looking very pleased. “Yes!” She pulled Clary in for a hug. A very long hug, actually. “So glad you could come.”

When they parted, the girl held Clary at an arm’s length and looked her up and down. She took in the shells, the scaly leggings and the wavy, flowy hair. She gasped. “Oh, you’re a mermaid!”

“Yeah,” Clary said, smiling tentatively. Simon noticed her hand about to go to her belly, which was uncovered due to the crop top, and then watched as she lowered it to wrap around her other hand instead.

“Yours is so much better.” Clary said, and seemed like she was about to say something else when the girl interrupted.

“Oh please, you’re gorgeous!” she said, gesturing to Clary. Whether she was indicating the costume or her body, Simon couldn’t tell.

Regardless, Clary was _definitely_ blushing now. Her face was almost the same fiery red as her hair.

Simon, who was fluent in Clary’s body language, took the opportunity to introduce himself and draw focus away from her while she collected herself.

“Simon,” he said, holding out a hand to the girl.

The girl took a quick look at his hand before pulling him in for a big hug, too.

“I’m Izzy,” she said as she pulled away. She looked Simon up and down as well, but definitely not as thoroughly as she had Clary. “Cool costume!”

She seemed genuinely excited, even though Simon was pretty sure she had no clue what he was supposed to be. He’d been prepared for it though. “Thanks! Yours too.”

Smiling, she stepped aside to let them in.

The hallway was cluttered with shoes and when the door was closed behind them, the music seemed even louder. Simon couldn’t make out what was playing, but he had a feeling it wasn’t anything he’d heard before anyway.

“We brought vodka,” he heard Clary say, patting her bag.

“Oh, you didn’t have to!” Izzy said, beaming. “Let’s put it in the kitchen.”

They toed off their shoes and hung off their jackets. Chatting with Izzy, the two of them followed her into the kitchen where they put their vodka on the counter next to an array of other liquor bottles.

“Big party,” Simon commented. They’d practically shoved their way through a thick crowd of people to get to the kitchen.

It was a regular house with a fair amount of space, and the hosts had certainly put every inch of space to good use.

The living room seemed to be where the main crowd hung out, since that’s where the music was the loudest. But even in the hallway and in the kitchen, people were strewn about; chatting, dancing and most frequently, drinking.

“Oh, yeah,” Izzy said, running a hand through her hair. “Maybe we went a bit overboard. But it’s just Halloween once a year, right? And our parents are out of town so it’s the perfect opportunity,” she said with a mischievous smile.

“You’re lucky,” Clary said, pointing between her and Simon. “We had to lie to our parents to come here.”

“You’re siblings?” Izzy asked, and Simon could only barely stop himself from grinning at the excitement in her voice.

“Well, not by blood,” Clary said.

Seeing Izzy’s face fall a bit, Simon added, “But definitely by bond. We pretty much grew up together.”

“Oh cool!” Izzy said happily. She turned her torso slightly and picked up a bottle of cider for them each and handed them out.

“Cheers then!” she exclaimed, clinking their bottles together. They repeated it back to her, and they all took a sip.

While Izzy and Clary continued small talking, Simon looked out over the party. To him the music sounded just the same as when they entered the house, but it was probably a new song.

The crowd looked just as he had expected it. A lot of witches, zombies and various animals. He saw some pop culture references but a disappointing lack of pun-based costumes.

They spent half an hour in the kitchen, chatting and being introduced around by Izzy as people came in to refill their drinks.

Clary grew more confident as time went on, while Simon said less and less. He waited another ten minutes and then reached for an escape.

“Hey, sorry,” he said, leaning past Clary and addressing Izzy, “Where’s the bathroom?”

“Up the stairs to the left,” she said, pointing towards the living room and, supposedly, the stairs. He nodded and headed in that direction, after a quick eye-conversation with Clary to make sure it was okay for him to leave her alone with Izzy.

The shy smile she gave him was more than enough indication that it was very much okay.

Chuckling slightly to himself, he headed towards the bathroom.

He weaved his way through the dancing crowd and climbed the stairs.

As he got to the second floor, he realized this wasn’t part of the party. There were no teenagers around and while he could still hear the thumping music from downstairs, it felt much calmer up here.

He loved Clary, he did, but parties just weren’t his thing. When she’d asked him to come with her, he’d said yes, but only because he knew she had a big crush on Izzy and he wanted her to be happy.

The plan had been to go and support Clary until she felt comfortable enough to hang out with Izzy on her own, and then try and sneak out and go home.

He wondered if it was too selfish to leave already.

Still trying to figure out a timeline of the night, he found the bathroom and locked the door behind him.

With another door between him and the party crowd downstairs, he felt himself calm down.

He wasn’t panicking or anything, but there was always this weird tension in his body in social situations, and that tension eased slightly when he knew he wasn’t being watched.

He ran his hand through his hair and turned to look in the mirror. It was a huge, crystal clear mirror hanging above a very modern-looking sink.

He took in his appearance; the black suit, the crisp white shirt, the bolo tie, his dark hair parted in the middle, and on top of that the dog ears attached to a headband and the dog snout painted over his nose.

He stuck his tongue out and laughed.

It wasn’t a very obvious costume, of course, but he liked it that way.

Clary had come up with the idea of using the look of the Snapchat filter that gave you dog ears and a dog tongue. Initially, he’d just thought he’d go as a Snapchat dog, but then one of his favorite movies popped into his head, and the costume was decided.

Pup fiction.

He turned away from the mirror and looked around the bathroom.

It looked like a typical family bathroom, with a cabinet holding shelves clearly color coded with a little piece of tape on each with a name neatly scribbled on it.

Robert, Maryse, Alexander, Jace, Isabelle and Max.

Simon ran his thumb over the one labelled _Isabelle._

With a smile, he thought of Clary, and he wondered if she was having a good time. Probably. With the way Izzy looked at her, it was obvious that her feelings were reciprocated.

Someone pulling on the door handle to the bathroom made him jump. He quickly backed away from the cabinet and, briefly panic stricken, he turned on the faucet in the sink to hide that he had been snooping.

There was the muffled sounds of retreating footsteps out in the hall. He let out a deep breath.

“Lewis, get it together,” he mumbled to himself and turned it off.

5 minutes later he left the bathroom, but whoever had been trying to get in was nowhere to be seen. The landing was empty as far as he could tell.

He glanced at his phone. It was almost 11 pm. He could leave now without feeling bad.

The toes on his right foot were sticking out over the edge of the top step, and his other foot was in the air about to step down, when a loud scream shattered the air and made him almost lose his balance.

Shocked, he grabbed hold of the railing to stop himself from tumbling down the stairs. He stopped to listen for any indication as to what (or who) had made the noise, but he heard nothing except the muffled music from the party downstairs.

He tentatively went back up on the landing and walked slowly down the narrow hallway. It was dimly lit, probably to discourage people from going upstairs.

Simon had just decided to leave it and just head home, when another scream came from further down the hallway.

This scream wasn’t as much an outcry of panic as the first one had been. This one was… well. It contained a very, _very_ long string of curse words.

A dozen scenarios flashed before his eyes. Someone being stabbed, or robbed, or—

Letting his instincts take over, he dashed down the hallway towards the sound. All the doors were closed except for one which stood ajar. Light was flooding out from under the door, pooling on the greyish carpet in the hallway.

Simon burst through the door, holding up his hands like he’d seen in The Karate Kid; fully prepared to take on whatever perpetrator waited on the other side.

But there was no crime to interfere. No one was being strangled or robbed. There wasn’t even any blood – not even _fake_ blood.

It was just a boy around Simon’s age sitting on a bed in front of a TV, with a Wii remote controller tightly clutched in one hand and a Nunchuk controller in the other.

“OH COME ON!” he shouted, and twisted his body as if the cars driving along the tracks on the screen were physically there with him in the room.

The boy hadn’t noticed him yet. His eyes were glued to the screen.

Simon didn’t know what to do.

He just stood there in the door opening, with his knees slightly bent and his hands held diagonally with his palms facing each other.

Maybe the boy felt watched, or maybe it was a weird coincidence, but he suddenly looked to his right and his eyes landed on Simon.

“What the f–”

“Sorry, dude, I didn’t mean to—” Simon rushed to say, and finally his muscles obeyed him and he dropped the stupid posture. “I— I heard someone scream.”

“So you thought you’d be the prince in shining armour and save me with that—” He waved the controller towards Simon, indicating his ridiculous stance. “Whatever that was.”

Simon rubbed the back of his head. “Yeah, well. I panicked, I guess.”

The boy had gone back to his game, but Simon thought he could see the corners of his mouth twitching.

“So uh,” Simon said, awkwardly. “If you weren’t being killed, why were you screaming?”

The boy pointed to the screen with his controller without taking his eyes off the game. “This course is kicking my ass.”

Simon glanced at the screen and huffed out a laugh.

That, however, seemed to get the boy’s attention. He paused the game and narrowed his eyes at Simon. “What?”

Simon forced himself to stop smiling. “No, nothing. It’s just—”

“Yes?” the boy said, an edge to his tone.

“Well, it’s not really hard, is it?”

The boy just stared at him.

Simon waited for him to say something, but he didn’t. He just stared.

“Sorry,” Simon said, mentally backpedaling really quickly. “That was really rude, right? I’m sorry. I’m just gonna—” He almost tripped over his own feet in his rush to leave the room, and he was almost in the safe haven of the hallway when the boy spoke again.

“Oh come on, you can’t drag me like that and bolt?” he said, one of his very handsome eyebrows raised.

He bent over and rummaged around a bit on the floor — which gave Simon a very nice view of his ass, although he certainly did not look — and finally re-emerged with another set of controllers that he held out to Simon. “If it’s so easy, prove it.”

Simon glanced at the offered items, then at the boy, and then out into the hallway.

He was so close to finally going home. Home to his garlic bread and Netflix. He should just say no and leave.

But against his better judgment, he sat down on the bed next to the boy, and took the controllers.

The boy gave him a very competitive look that made Simon’s stomach tighten, but in a surprisingly pleasant way.

He cancelled the round and started fresh with the 2 player mode.

The screen with characters popped up and, used to always competing for him when he played with his sister, Simon quickly chose Yoshi.

“Oh come on, man!” the boy groaned. His marker was on top of Simon’s, but because Yoshi was already selected he kept pressing the buttons in vain.

“Sorry, it’s my go-to,” Simon said with a grin.

Huffing, the boy picked Baby Peach instead.

Simon couldn’t help but laugh. “Baby Peach, really?”

The boy shoved him, but it wasn’t very hard and Simon just swung a little to the side before recentering himself again.

“Yeah, she’s badass,” the boy said defensively. In a softer voice, he added, “And pink’s my favorite color.”

It never even crossed Simon’s mind to tease him about it. Instead, a warm feeling settled right below his ribs and all he could think of doing was stretch out his hand and say, “I’m Simon, by the way.”

The boy looked down at the outstretched hand and then back up at Simon. “Jace,” he said, shaking Simon’s hand. “But you can call me King Jace when I’ve beaten you.”

“Mhhm, I don’t think so. I’ve been playing since I was a kid,” Simon said.

When they picked their vehicles, Simon chose the standard Yoshi car and Jace picked a bike called Quacker. Quacker was a white and pink duck.

“You drive that thing and think you can beat me?” Jace said, pointing at Yoshi’s car. He shook his head. “Good luck, buddy.”

Simon didn’t respond, and instead shifted his position so he was ready when the game started.

They were playing the Lightning Cup courses and Simon knew he had this in the bag.

“Alright, let's see what you’ve got,” Jace said as the beeping noise indicated the start of the game.

 

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

 

“OH NO YOU DON’T!”

“HA! Take that!”

Jace was standing up, the remote in one hand and the Nunchuk in the other, and with every swerve of his car, he leaned his whole body that way as well.

“BLUE FUCKING SHELL!” Jace screamed, and for a moment Simon thought he was going to slam his controller into the floor. “You coward!”

“Oh come on, you used it last round,” Simon replied. He tried to sound defensive, but he couldn’t stop grinning.

“Not when there was 30 seconds left of the lap!” Jace growled. “Oh come on, come on, come on–” He chanted through gritted teeth and then—

“YES!” Simon jumped to his feet now, too; his fist in the air. “I _told you_ I’m unbeatable!”

“Unbea _r_ able maybe,” Jace muttered under his breath, along with a bunch of curse words Simon couldn’t make out.

It was weird, but Jace’s insults never seemed like actual insults. The tone may be harsh but Simon couldn’t take it seriously at all, which was surprising since Simon was usually quite sensitive to harsh tones.

“Well, sorry to break it to you but I won,” Simon said, and sat back down on the bed. He was very pleased with himself.

“Oh please, like we’re done,” Jace snorted, and sat down too. He pointed the controller towards the monitor and started a new game.

While Jace set up the umpteenth game of the night, Simon looked around the room.

Clothes were strewn about pretty much everywhere and a handful of empty bottles of the beer they’d drunk so far tonight stood on the floor by the bed.

“You’ve really gone in for the bachelor aesthetic, huh?” he said, and grimaced at a glass of something unidentifiable on the bedside table.

“It’s the easiest way to let people know I’m available,” Jace said with a shrug, his eyes on the screen.

Simon stared at him, but Jace didn’t reciprocate.

Was it just an offhand joke, or was it a smooth way to let his present company know his social status?

Thoughts were bouncing around Simon’s head so quickly, he actually felt dizzy for a moment.

It didn’t matter, he decided. They’d known each other for — he glanced at his wrist watch – an hour and 20 minutes. He was just reading into it.

“Yeah, sure, yeah,” was what he ended up saying, accompanied by a cringe because _wow, Lewis, get yourself together._

“Okay, ready for another round?” Jace asked and turned to look at him. He seemed completely oblivious to the inner turmoil of his new… friend? Acquaintance? Mortal enemy in Mario Kart?

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” Simon said, and almost slapped himself with annoyance. _Come on._

The game felt like a blessed distraction sent from above, because if there was one thing he knew how to do, it was channeling his emotions into gaming.

It only took 5 minutes before they were shouting again, both in anger and glee.

“Nice jump!” Jace laughed after Simon had flown straight into the lava.

“Careful or I’ll use my blue shell!”

“Fuck, really?” Jace gasped, and Simon snickered at the pure panic in his voice.

“No, not really.”

“Oh, you ass,” Jace sighed, his shoulders relaxing. He immediately tensed up again, however, when an aggressive beeping started, signalling a blue shell.

“YOU FUC—”

“It wasn’t me!” Simon shouted before Jace could even get out the accusation. “I swear! I’m awesome at Mario Kart but I’m a terrible liar!”

He really hadn’t thrown the shell, but he nonetheless cheered with joy when he passed Jace on the track. Jace, in turn, threw a pillow at Simon’s face.

“Cheating!” Simon croaked, frantically pushing the pillow off.

“Well at least your driving can’t get any worse, so… Does it really matter if you can see or not?” Jace asked smugly.

Simon shot him a glare. “Wow, cocky much?”

“Well, I _am_ superior,” Jace said with a shrug.

“Okay,” Simon said, pausing the game. He gave Jace a slight push. “Lay down, and play without looking. Let’s see how you do.”

Jace snorted, but he complied and laid down flat on his back; his long legs dangling over the edge of the bed. For a brief moment, Simon followed the curve of his bent leg, where the soft fabric of the pyjama pants stretched over his thighs and—

“Okay, let me know when you unpause,” Jace said, effectively interrupting Simon’s train of thought.

“Right, yeah, okay,” Simon stuttered, and struggled to make his brain do that thinking thing again. The many beers they’d had were really starting to kick in, and he felt his head getting fuzzier with each round.

He hovered over the play button. “Ready?”

“Yeah.”

“1... 2... 3.”

The game turned back on and Simon very nearly crashed into a wall. Jace, however, did very definitely crash.

“Told you it wasn’t easy,” Simon said, twisting his whole body as he swerved to avoid a red shell thrown at him.

“It’s fine,” Jace said from behind him, but Simon knew he was just faking it. He was swerving into people and most of all into walls where he got stuck. Simon was laughing his head off.

Jace stuck with it for two laps but when Simon told him the score, immediately followed by the fact that they just started the third lap, he gave up.

He tried to sit up but Simon was ready and immediately pushed him back down with the hand he held the Nunchuk in, and still kept playing.

Jace pushed against him to get up, but Simon was persistent.

Jace, however, was equally persistent and wouldn’t stop straining.

Simon flattened his hand over Jace’s chest to push him down, and Jace tried a combination of elbowing and kicking to get away.

Somehow, Simon ended up half leaning, half lying on top of Jace, pressing him down into the mattress while laughing until his stomach hurt and trying to finish the course at the same time.

Jace was shaking with laughter too.

“Wow, you just hit another wall!” Simon said gleefully, a little louder than what was strictly necessary. Jace was still trying to finish the course, even though Simon was now completely blocking his sight. “I thought you were good at this, ‘King Jace’.”

Jace changed tactics and abandoned the game in favor of trying to tickle Simon.

Simon gave a loud shriek and immediately dropped both controllers as he tried to push away Jace’s hands, but it turned out Jace was just as invested in winning as Simon, because he refused to give up.

He held on to Simon’s waist and whenever Simon would wiggle away from him, Jace would pull him back towards him. Simon was laughing and cursing interchangeably, while Jace just laughed.

With a subtle change of positions, Jace managed to get hold of both of Simon’s wrists in one hand, while using the other to tickle his side.

Simon was kicking wildly and at one point even tried biting Jace’s arm, to no avail. Jace just rolled onto his back and pulled Simon with him so he was lying on top of Jace’s chest, struggling like a beetle flipped on its back. He wrapped an arm around Simon’s middle to keep him flush against him, and used his free hand to keep tickling him.

“Admit defeat!” Jace called over Simon’s laughter. “Admit I’m the king!”

“I admit, I admit!” Simon gasped finally, “You’re the king!”

Jace mercifully stopped his torture and eased the tight hold on Simon, who immediately got to his feet –– to freedom.

He turned and looked down at Jace, who still laid flat on his back. His hair was a tangled mess, and he was smiling.

“Who’s the king again?” he asked, grinning.

“I know no king,” Simon said haughtily.

Jace’s face fell and he sat up on his elbows. “You lied! You can’t–”

“You’ve been deceived,” Simon said, wiggling the dog ears attached to his head band. He sat back down on the bed. “By my cuteness.”

“Who wouldn’t be,” Jace said, but he said it so quietly, Simon wasn’t sure if Jace meant for him to hear it.

Jace was… looking at him. There was something in his eyes that Simon couldn’t decipher, but oh how he wanted to.

He wasn’t sure if he was imagining it or not, but suddenly the silence between them felt very charged and heavy. He was now tangibly aware that their knees were almost touching and he desperately wished he was brave enough to just reach out and… he wasn’t sure what he wanted to do. It felt so impossible that he didn’t even dare imagine it.

Simon felt warm in a way he’d never felt before. It was like a tiny fire burning in the pit of his stomach, but it wasn’t painful. It was... pleasant, and comforting.

He wondered vaguely if it was just the beer.

As usual, though, good feelings never came without a price.

Instead of digging into the anxiety that rose within him at Jace’s words and the sudden tension –– what did it mean? Did it even mean anything? Was Jace gay? He couldn’t be, right? Was he pan, like Simon? Was Simon just reading into things and seeing what he wanted to see? Was he going crazy? –– he decided to push past it and bury that anxiety deep within him.

“Wanna play again?” he asked asked, picking up the discarded controllers from the floor. “We can––”

He never made it to the end of his sentence.

He couldn’t for the life of him retell how it happened, but suddenly there was a warm hand on his thigh, and then Jace was there. Kissing him.

Jace’s lips were chapped and slightly dry against his, and yet the kiss was the softest thing in the world.

It was the gentlest of touches, with Jace only grazing Simon’s lips with his own, his breath hot against Simon’s face. The kiss felt precious and important, somehow.

Simon’s hands were still holding the controllers, and he held onto them so tightly his knuckles whitened. They were the anchor that tied him to reality when Jace’s lips threatened to whisk him away to some dreamscape where everything was beautiful and they could just keep kissing forever.

But alas, this was not that dreamscape. This was reality.

And when Jace finally pulled away, Simon wanted to tell him ‘no, come back’ and ‘please don’t stop’. And at the same time, he didn’t want to speak –– well, he _couldn’t_ speak. His eyes were wide and his tongue silent.

He could feel Jace watching him, but he couldn’t bare to look at him. Not yet.

He needed to feel this, first. Feel the sensation of being kissed like this. It wasn’t his first kiss by any standard, but it was the first time he’d reacted this strongly to a kiss. It was the first time he’d felt like this, like he would float away if he didn’t anchor himself down.

“I’m sorry.”

Jace’s quiet voice broke the heavy silence. His hand was no longer on Simon’s thigh. Instead he held his hands locked together in his lap, his fingers twitching slightly.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what I––”

Simon just shook his head, hoping it would be enough. He couldn’t speak, not yet, but the shame in Jace’s voice made him wish he could. He wanted to tell Jace that he could kiss him whenever he wanted, that it was more than okay, that it was nothing to be ashamed about.

When he finally found his voice, a few minutes had passed. Jace seemed to understand the silent communication, and sat patiently beside him, waiting for Simon to speak.

“I, um,” Simon said, finally. He cleared his throat, and could immediately feel his cheeks heating up. “That was, uh… good.”

 _‘Good’?_ He thought to himself. _Poor Jace is panicking and all you can say is ‘good’?_

Jace seemed to think along the same lines, because he looked away and scratched the back of his neck.

“It must be the beer,” he said, quickly glancing at Simon and then back at the floor. “I thought you wanted––”

“No, I did,” Simon said quickly. “I mean, I do. I do want– uh.” He laughed nervously. “This is weird. Right?”

Jace laughed quietly. “Yeah, yeah it is. I don’t, you know… I don’t know. I thought I was straight.”

“Oh,” Simon said. Whatever confidence had been instilled in him by that kiss was suddenly drained out of him. So Jace _was_ straight. Simon was some kind of experiment, some curiosity Jace only acted on when intoxicated.

It felt like a punch to the gut.

“No, no, that’s not what I meant,” Jace amended quickly when he saw Simon’s face. “I mean, I guess it is, but––” He shrugged. “Well, I’m obviously not.”

Simon nodded slowly, trying to understand. “Obviously not what?”

“Straight,” Jace said, with a tiny smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. His eyes darted between Simon’s lips and his eyes.

Something fluttered in Simon’s chest.

“Oh,” he said. “Well… me neither.”

“Good. Nice. Great.”

They both looked at each other, neither saying anything, for a few beats.

Simon’s heart was hammering in his chest and he had to remind himself how to breathe.

Breathe in. _His mouth look so soft._

Breathe out. _I wonder what he tastes like._

Breathe in. _God, those lips..._

Breathe out. _He’s not straight. He’s not straight. He’s not straight!_

“I really want to kiss you again,” Jace blurted out.

It took a moment for Simon’s brain to process the words.

_I really want to kiss you again._

**_I_ ** _really want to kiss_ **_you_ ** _again._

 _I really want to_ **_kiss_ ** _you again._

“Oh god yes.”

The words came out in a rushed tangle of syllables. He wasn’t even sure he’d actually said them because for a moment nothing happened. The silence was deafening.

Simon wasn’t sure who initiated it but the next thing he knew, all his senses were full of Jace.

His hands in Simon’s hair, their lips pressed together, an overwhelming scent of floral sweetness all around him.

He didn’t make a conscious decision to move but he could feel himself, as through a haze, moving to kind of straddle Jace’s thigh and toppling them both over onto the bed.

Jace was laughing and it was the most angelic sound Simon had ever heard. He slid his hand into Jace’s hair and guided him into a kiss, which was surprisingly tender considering their intoxication.

It was kind of sloppy and off-center, but it was amazing and special nonetheless. He could feel Jace’s hands on him, not really knowing where to settle and instead just digging into his jacket to pull him in closer.

Jace was laughing again and when Simon tried to kiss him, Jace pulled back slightly. Well, as much as he could with Simon on top of him.

Simon immediately sat back on his heels, still straddling Jace, to give him a bit of space.

“What?” he asked anxiously.

“Is that a controller in your hand or are you just happy to see me?” Jace asked with a grin.

Simon looked down at his hands, utterly confused. He was still holding the controller in one hand. “Oh, oh right!”

He rolled off Jace and put the controllers onto the floor, safely tucked under the bed so they wouldn’t accidentally step on them.

When he straightened back up, he looked down at Jace who still laid flat on his back next to him. Jace’s eyes travelled slowly up Simon’s body until he reached Simon’s eyes.

He tugged at the sleeve of Simon’s suit. “What are you supposed to be, anyway?”

Simon looked down at his clothes and cringed. His entire ensemble was wrinkled and messy.

He made a feeble attempt to straighten out his shirt but he gave up almost immediately. When he still felt Jace’s eyes on him, he looked up.

“Well, I’m Pup,” he said, pointing to the dog makeup on his face. Then, gesturing to his clothes, he continued, “Fiction. Pup Fiction. Get it?”

Jace didn’t seem to get it. He just stared at Simon.

And then he burst out laughing.

He tipped his head back onto the bed. “Pup Fiction. That’s fucking amazing.”

A gentle flood of emotions ran through Simon as he watched Jace’s laughter finally subside and leave a small smile playing on his lips in its wake.

“What about you?” Simon asked, leaning back on his palms and looking down at Jace. “Why aren’t you dressed up?”

“Why I am,” Jace said, feigning indignation.

“What are you supposed to be then?” Simon asked. He tried to think of costumes that involved pyjama pants and a t-shirt, but couldn’t think of any.

Jace pointed to his shirt. “I’m Captain America. Duh.”

Simon only barely suppressed a groan.

“That’s not a costume!” he argued. “That’s just... merch.”

“You come into _my_ home and insult _my_ costume,” Jace said, shaking his head. “How dare you.”

“It’s not a costume though!” Simon said. “Like, how much time did it take you to come up with it? One second?

“I think you’re focusing on the wrong thing here,” Jace said. He was supporting himself on his elbows, so they were still not on eye level and he had to crane his head slightly to look up at Simon. 

There was a twinkle in his eye and Simon’s chest felt all tingly and full again. Pronouncing his words very clearly to make sure he didn’t stutter, he said, “What should I focus on instead?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Jace said, only barely hiding a smirk. He gestured towards himself, as if just casually giving an example.

“You’re really cute,” Simon said.

They had been flirting on and off all night — they’d even kissed, for God’s sake — and still, those three words felt more intimate than everything else they’d shared tonight. Jace seemed to think so too, because his smirk softened into a smile.

He tugged lightly on the collar of Simon’s suit jacket, his eyes never leaving Simon’s.

Just like so many other times tonight, their communication was wordless, but effective.

Simon quickly shrugged off his jacket and the very second it hit the floor, Jace reached out for him.

He pulled Simon down on top of him in one swift movement. Simon went willingly, straddling one of Jace’s legs.

They crashed their mouths together, their wants and needs blending together like watercolour until they were inseparable.

“Are you sure,” Simon asked, breathless between kisses, “that you want this?”

“If by ‘this’ you mean ‘you’, then yeah,” Jace replied, “Of course I do.”

Simon made a small humming noise and, feeling very brave, he skimmed one hand down Jace’s arm, over his bicep, down along his side. There was still cotton between his hand and Jace's chest, but there might as well have been nothing, because Simon could feel the warmth radiating from Jace’s body. It made him dizzy.

He wasn’t a virgin by any means but he had never been intimate with someone he was this electrically attracted to. All his other relationships had been slow burns, developed over a long period of time. He’d never experienced anything like this — raw, irresistible.

There was something about Jace that made his knees buckle and his heart beat faster. It was ridiculous since they’d only known each other for half a day, but even if he knew it was ridiculous, the strong sentiment was still there.

To Simon’s delight, the feelings seemed to be reciprocated. A warm hand rested on the small of his back, gently pressing him closer and grounding him. Jace’s other hand was cupping his cheek, taking control of the kiss and letting Simon know exactly where he wanted him.

Jace shifted slightly beneath him and Simon had to bite back a moan. He didn’t know how far Jace wanted to go — hell, he wasn’t even sure what he wanted himself — and he didn’t want to come on too strong.

Jace, however, seemed to be of a different mind.

Seeing Simon bite down on his bottom lip, he raised his hips slightly. Simon’s hips immediately bucked in response, which made Jace smile, wide and bright like the sun.

It was all so overwhelming and yet not nearly enough. Jace’s kisses were slow and languid now, like he was purposefully taking his time and savoring every second of it.

The heat was pooling in the pit of Simon’s stomach and––

“Is it weird that I really like you?”

Simon paused, and leaned back slightly to look Jace in the eye. He blinked. For a moment, Simon wondered if this was the moment when Jace would freak out about having a so-called ‘gay experience’.

But there was no panic in Jace’s eyes. There was nothing but pure wonder.

“I mean, I don’t really know anything about you,” he said, absentmindedly running his thumb along Simon’s jaw as he spoke. Their faces were only inches apart, and Simon could feel Jace’s breath dusting his skin. “Except that you suck at Mario Kart, of course. And that you’re really cute."

“So you know nothing about me, then,” Simon said, playfully narrowing his eyes. Then, more seriously, he said, “For whatever it’s worth, I really like you too. Even if you’re a sore loser.”

Jace hummed. He tucked a stray strand of hair behind Simon’s ear, and grinned. “What about me? Don’t you think I’m cute?”

Simon rolled his eyes and kissed him again. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t, right?”

“Mm, fair enough.” He kissed him back. “But am I just cute, or…?”

Simon shook his head. “Are you really fishing for compliments? _Now_?”

“See, we’re already getting to know each other.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Simon said, but he nonetheless leaned in for another kiss, and another, and another.

The heat was building again and Simon experimentally rocked his hips forward, gauging the reaction.

It was the best decision he ever made, because the resulting noise that escaped Jace’s lips was nothing short of heavenly. It was a mix between a moan and a gasp, and the accompanying blush was almost better.

Simon mumbled something incoherent and gripped Jace’s shirt to pull him flush against him.

Jace’s cheeks were still faintly pink, but there was a new spark in his eyes.

He grabbed Simon’s hips and rolled them over, so Jace was on top instead. He was smiling that infuriatingly –– and very, very sexy –– smile of his, and Simon was just about to grab him by the neck and pull him into a kiss when–

It happened very quickly. One second, Jace was hovering over him, shuffling around to get comfortable; and the next, he had somehow lost his balance and dropped straight onto Simon’s chest, knocking the wind out of him.

Simon bolted half-upright, leaning back on his elbows and gasping for breath.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” Jace gasped, sitting back on his heels and cradling Simon’s jaw with a worried expression on his face. “Fuck, are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine,” Simon said, still struggling to regain his breath. “What happened?”

“I’m so stupid,” Jace groaned, “I thought it would be a sexy move, to wrap your legs around me, but I slipped on the covers and–– _are you laughing at me?_ ”

“I’m sorry,” Simon wheezed, literally doubling over with laughter. “It’s just–– God, I thought you were this Casanova type, but you’re just as bad as me.”

Jace seemed torn between arguing and kissing Simon just to shut him up, but he finally opted for the second.

Simon kept laughing into the kiss, though.

“Let me help,” he said, only managing not to laugh by grinning instead. He moved further up the bed to allow space for Jace to position himself between Simon’s legs.

He must have looked too smug, because without any warning, Jace hooked his hands under Simon’s knees and yanked him back down towards him. Simon gasped and instinctively grabbed hold of Jace’s biceps to steady himself.

Jace guided him to wrap his legs around Jace’s waist, and then leaned over Simon to kiss him again.

One of his hands slid under Simon and with his palm flat against Simon’s back, he encouraged him to arch it towards Jace.

Their chests were flush against each other and Simon could feel Jace’s heartbeat falling in sync with his own.

“Okay,” he admitted against Jace’s lips, breathing heavily. “You’re right, this is really hot.”

“How about I’ll be smug about it later and we can make out now?” Jace suggested, hovering mere millimeters over Simon’s mouth.

Simon whimpered something undecipherable in response. He dug his heel into Jace’s back to push him closer and pulled him down for a kiss.

The intensity quickly built between them again. At least for Simon, everything felt even more intense now, if it was at all possible. Every touch of Jace’s felt like a tiny electric shock, setting his nerve endings on fire.

Simon was immensely grateful for Jace’s t-shirt, because it was on the smaller side which had several perks. One of them being that the shirt kept riding up and left several inches of bare skin right above the brim of his pyjama pants. Another perk was how tight it was over his chest, and Simon particularly enjoyed how it made Jace’s biceps bulge when he held himself up on his arms above him.

With his palm flat against the bare skin on the small of Jace’s back, he made a pleased sound in the back of his throat, which spurred Jace to capture his lips in another kiss.

“God, you taste so good,” Jace mumbled, his eyes glazed and a little out of focus. “Can we just do this all the time?”

There wasn’t a cell in Simon’s body that disagreed with that. He enthusiastically kissed Jace again, dragging his teeth over his bottom lip and almost breaking skin. Jace hissed and kissed him back with even more enthusiasm. 

He rocked against Simon, drawing out a long string of curse words that were stifled by Jace’s mouth against his.

 _I can do this forever_ , Simon thought happily, and in that very moment, there was a knock on the door.

They both scrambled to their feet with difficulty. Jace pulled down his shirt and — to Simon’s immense joy and pride – rearranged his pyjama pants before going to the door.

“What should I do?” Simon hissed. He was still kneeling on the bed, panic starting to bubble up within him.

“Just, I don’t know, sit down. We’re just hanging out,” Jace said, nodding at Simon once for confirmation and then opening the door.

He leaned against the door frame, both to semi-hide his lower body half from view and also to hide Simon.

Simon had snatched one of the pillows and put it in his lap. As if that wasn’t suspicious.

“Oh, hey Iz,” Jace said, and Simon could hear the resignation in his voice.

Before either of them could react, Izzy had pushed into the room with––

“Clary!” Simon said, surprise coloring his voice.

“Simon!” she replied, mirroring his surprise. “I thought you left already? It’s like 3 am.”

“Oh, uh, no,” he said awkwardly. He tried to discreetly rearrange the pillow in his lap so it didn’t look so obvious. “We got carried away, I guess.” Seeing Clary’s eyebrows raise, he quickly added, “With Mario Kart, I mean. We were playing Mario Kart.”

While Clary and Simon were both mildly uncomfortable, Izzy seemed wholly unperturbed.

“Anyway, do you have a spare pillow? I can’t find any,” Izzy asked her brother.

Jace went to one of the wardrobes lining the walls and pulled out a pillow that he handed to his sister. He smoothly interlocked his hands in front of him. “Anything else?”

“Nope, nothing else,” Izzy said, smiling brightly at him. She nodded towards Clary. “I let some people stay in the living room so Clary’s sleeping in my room.”

Clary’s face turned the same shade as her hair. She glanced at Simon and as their eyes met, they had one of their classic telepathic conversations.

_Please don’t judge me._

_Does it look like I’m in a position to be judging right now? I’ve literally got a boner blocker._

_Fair enough. Be safe?_

_You too._

And with a shared smile of fondness and trust, Clary left the room with Izzy, and Jace closed the door behind them.

“Sorry about that,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Oh it's fine,” Simon said. 

It _was_ actually fine. But upon hearing the time, he realized he should have left hours ago.

“Well, I’m gonna go,” he said, and not-so-gracefully climbed off the bed.

“Oh, okay,” Jace said, his smile faltering. “Why?”  
  
“Didn’t you hear? It’s 3 am,” Simon said, as if this answered every possible question Jace could have.

Apparently it didn’t.

“So? You can crash here,” Jace said.

Simon frowned. “Izzy said the living room’s full.”

“I meant _here_ here. You can take my bed.”

“Oh…” Simon said, his frown getting deeper. “I think–– I think it’s better if I go home.”

“If you want to,” Jace said.

He was looking up at Simon through his eyelashes in the most endearing and simultaneously hot way.

Simon really didn’t want to go.

But what kind of signal would he be giving off if he stayed over? Now that the heat of the moment had passed, Simon knew for sure that he didn’t want to hook up. Not now, at least. Not when he was still tipsy, even if it wasn’t much.

Jace must have sensed his hesitance, because he continued, “If you want to stay over, you can take the bed and I’ll sleep on the floor. Honestly, it’s fine. Cross my heart and hope to die.”

“If you’re sure…” Simon said slowly.

“Yes,” Jace said firmly.

“Okay. But we can share the bed, just not… you know?”

“No funny business,” Jace said, and although it sounded like a joke, his voice was very serious. Then he smiled. “Your makeup is smudged.”

Simon reached up to tentatively touch his nose and the painted-on snout. “Oh man.”

“Don’t worry, it’s still really cute,” Jace said. His voice was very reassuring and soft, and in a way that was even more attractive than everything they’d done earlier.

Simon had already defied so many of his social anxieties today, so why not fuck with them even more?

He took three very purposeful steps towards Jace and pulled him into a kiss by grabbing a fistful of his shirt.

Jace made a surprised noise but then immediately melted into the kiss. His hands settled around Simon’s waist, tugging him closer.

This kiss was a lot more like their first one. Soft, gentle.

For a while they just stood there, in the middle of Jace’s bedroom, holding each other and breathing each other in. Jace nuzzled his nose against Simon’s, and then pulled away. He wiggled his eyebrows.

“Wanna make out some more?”

 

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

It was closer to 4 am when they finally stopped fooling around and got ready for bed.

After brushing their teeth and washing off Simon’s makeup, they went back to Jace’s bedroom.

“Do you want something to sleep in?” Jace asked as he closed the door behind them.

Simon sat down on the edge of the bed. “Um, it doesn’t really matter to me. Whatever works for you.”

Jace eyed him for a moment, and then turned to his wardrobe and picked out a shirt. He tossed it to Simon, who caught it in the air.

“Do you want some privacy?” Jace asked. He was standing next to the bed, hands in the pockets of his pyjama pants. He looked… nervous.

“It’s fine,” Simon said, and unceremoniously started unbuttoning his shirt. When he shrugged it off, it sent a tingle down his spine to see that Jace was still watching him. When Simon met his gaze, Jace immediately looked away.

Simon changed from his suit to the soft t-shirt he borrowed from Jace, as well as an equally soft pair of pyjama pants. He folded his clothes –– as well as the suit jacket that he’d treated so carelessly before –– and laid them in a neat pile on Jace’s dresser.

When he was done, he turned back to Jace, who had already gotten in bed.

“This is awkward, so I’m just gonna push on, okay?” Simon said, as he approached the bed.

“That’s what she said,” Jace said, like on autopilot. When he realized what he’d said, he groaned. “Sorry.”

Simon just rolled his eyes.

 _What a nerd,_ he thought. 

He turned off the lights and then peeled away the covers from his side of the bed and laid down. He pulled the covers up to under his chin.

For a while, neither of them said anything. Simon was staring up at the ceiling and Jace was staring at Simon.

“So,” Simon said, finally. “Do we just go to sleep?”

“I guess so.”

They were silent for another minute.

“Wanna spoon?”

Jace sounded almost breathless, like he’d forced the words out before he could think better of it.

Simon turned his head to face him. “Yeah?”

“If you want,” Jace said. He still seemed nervous.

“Do you prefer being the big spoon or the little spoon?” Simon asked, his heart fluttering happily.

Jace didn’t answer right away. 

“Well…” he said slowly. “I’m always the big spoon.”

“Because other people want you to be?” Simon guessed, entirely based off Jace’s tone.

“Yeah.”

“Well it’s your lucky day,” Simon said, turning onto his side so they were face to face. “Because I prefer being the big spoon.”

Jace lit up. “Really?”

“Absolutely,” he said. He held out his arms and wiggled his fingers invitingly.

Jace turned around and scooted back slightly, until his back was against Simon’s chest.

Simon’s right arm was under Jace’s head, and he slung the other casually over Jace’s stomach. Jace burrowed closer to him and laid his hand on top of Simon’s, and pulled their hands up to rest against his chest. Their fingers intertwined naturally and Simon smiled into Jace’s golden hair.

“Good night,” Simon whispered.

Jace raised their joined hands to his mouth and pressed a soft kiss to the back of Simon's hand.

“Goodnight.”

 


End file.
